Chapter 51 (Part 1)

The Raven Host was gathered in record time and it was mere minutes after Amelia Bones' mirror call that they portkeyed into London.

The head of the DMLE had been in too great a rush to summon help to actually tell them which part of London to go to, but it wasn't hard to guess with thirty or so giants rampaging through the city, gleefully smashing everything in reach, illuminated by the many lights put up for the festivities and the burning buildings.

There was no fucking way that the Obliviators were going to make this one disappear.

"That has to be every male giant that's still alive." Dora whispered with a sort of stunned horror.

That was probably true. There had been less than eighty giants left in the world the last time Harry had checked, a single small tribe. Some of that was due to their inherently violent tendencies and resulting infighting, but mostly it was because wizards had either killed them or herded them into remote mountain valleys in an effort to keep them from violating the Statute of Secrecy with their mere existence.

"Girls, go see if you can put those giants down. Raven Host, go after the inferi Bones said were here. All of you watch out for Death Eater ambushes and mundane police. They won't know who to shoot at so keep up kinetic barriers, but do not attack them even if they fire at you unless you have absolutely no other choice. The last thing we need is to be tarred with the same brush as the Death Eaters after this mess is done with."

They all nodded and flew towards their objectives, the girls under their own power and the Raven Host on brooms.

Harry himself went to find the crazy bastard that had started this, a simmering anger boiling in his veins. He didn't much care about the tremendous loss of life this stupid stunt had no doubt already caused, but the consequences of it infuriated him. Yes, the Statute of Secrecy was doomed to fail soon anyway - maybe not today or tomorrow or next year or even the next decade, but it was going to fail - and it would have been a mess no matter what, but to have it happen like this ?

Preserving the world's magic would have been hard enough if the secret got out under the best of circumstances, now it would be a miracle if they were able to avoid a modern series of government-backed witch hunts.

Nothing he saw on his fly-by improved his opinion of the situation. The streets had been packed with people for the New Year's celebration and the death toll had to be in the hundreds or even thousands already. The giants had blocked the roads with debris from the buildings they smashed, there were inferi tearing into people everywhere and the Death Eaters had set fire to a bunch of shit.

The Aurors were also out in force, but it was clear that the magnitude of the problem was simply beyond them. The Death Eaters and the inferi they could have handled eventually, but even a single giant could soak up so much damage that they had no hope of containing the situation in any kind of reasonable timeframe. And then there was Voldemort himself.

Harry found him on a street some distance away from the main chaos. He was being confronted by some of the Ministry's best Aurors, plus Amelia Bones. They couldn't have really challenged him to begin with, as was obvious by the way he was toying with them, but the situation was made even worse because he was summoning people from the panicked horde fleeing past him and using them as either shields or projectiles and laughing madly the whole time. Clearly a new tactic he had adopted since their last encounter. Only now was this insane attack on London was starting to make some sense, a horrible sort of sense.

Harry landed just in front of the Aurors and the fight immediately ground to a halt.

"Harry Potter!" Voldemort exclaimed, opening his arms grandly as if pleased that his greatest enemy was here. His expression was something that could have been pictured next to the dictionary definition of 'demented'. "You are finally here. Do you see how the muggle filth flees before us, Harry? Do you see our DESTINY?"

"Go pacify the rest of his forces, I've got this." Harry said calmly to Amelia Bones, not moving his eyes away from the madman in front of him.

The head of the DMLE didn't protest at being ordered around by someone that was ostensibly the same age as her niece. There were bigger problems at hand.

"DO YOU SEE, HARRY?" Voldemort shouted when he didn't get an immediate response. His aura was a swirling mass of chaos, with little islands of stability forming only to be swept away almost immediately after.

Harry looked over to the side where the body of a young girl barely in her teens was laying, then to the many others littering the street. There were still people running around them, but they gave both wizards a wide berth and fearful looks.

His eyes turned yellow as they swung back to Voldemort. "All I see is the doom of everything you've ever claimed to champion."

The pasty, noseless face was made even uglier by the hatred it displayed. "And who will bring that doom?" Voldemort demanded and fired a curse at random at the fleeing non-magicals. "This weak filth?! They will finally learn their place!"

Harry shook his head as the man that had been hit fell and the panic around them intensified. "What a sad waste of potential you are. You could have been great, but instead you became… this ."

The Dark Lord was understandably infuriated at being condescended to by someone many deacdes his junior. "I am the greatest wizard alive! I AM LORD VOLDEMORT!"

"You are a dangerous idiot." Harry retorted flatly, taking a firmer grip on his staff.

The hair-trigger psychopath reacted in the predictable manner, with a deluge of vicious curses.

Harry blocked a few before rising into the air, ignoring the cries of pain and terror as the people that had been behind him were hit. He could do nothing to protect them and standing still in an attempt to do so would just get him killed.

Now that there were no non-combatants in the direct line of fire, he retaliated with his own nasty spells. Unfortunately, Voldemort again did the predictable thing and repositioned himself so that he hovered over the heads of the fleeing people.

"What's wrong, Harry?" The Dark Lord called out gleefully. "Afraid of hurting your precious muggles?"

Harry ground his slightly pointy teeth together in frustration. This new strategy of Voldemort's was cowardly, insane and would have devastating long-term consequences, but it was unfortunately effective. He could theoretically disregard the lives of the random bystanders and fight back at full power, but as a legitimate head of state - albeit a tiny state - he couldn't be seen indiscriminately butchering everyone that got in his way. Not if he ever wanted any peace in his life after Voldemort at any rate. This was especially true now that the Statute of Secrecy had been so unceremoniously tossed out the window.

That was when they heard a sonic boom, followed by a series of explosions and bellows of pain from the giants.

Harry already had a good guess as to what had happened, but Voldemort had to fly upwards to see.

"What is this? What happened to my giants?" He demanded, seeing all the oversized humanoids felled.

"The consequences." Harry scowled.

It took an effort of will for Tonks to unclench her jaw as they flew towards the closest giant.

She was old enough to remember the last few years of Voldemort's previous reign of terror and the aftermath of it. She knew the despair people had felt when it seemed as if the Dark Lord could do whatever he pleased without being challenged.

It was different this time, Voldemort's mad ambitions were being smothered before they could take root and Tonks had always been proud to be part of the reason that he was being stymied, even if she wasn't always proud of the methods.

Then the mad fucker goes and attacks London. There was no point to it, Voldemort had to know that he'd never get anywhere without defeating Harry first and he had to have seen his enemy's growing strength. How was killing random non-magicals supposed to get around that? It couldn't. This felt like the actions of a petulant child kicking down a sand castle because the other kids wouldn't let him do what he wanted.

Tonks couldn't shake the nagging thought that they could have handled things differently. Voldemort obviously had to be fought, but surely there had been some way they could have done it that wouldn't have led to this mess?

Well, no time for wondering about that now, it was time to kill some giants. Although a deadly threat even to experienced wizards with their size and resilience, the mobility granted by flight rather removed any real danger.

One of the giants was wearing a gleaming metal helmet of exquisite quality. That sparked something in Tonks' memory. Hadn't Dumbledore been trying to convince - bribe, if you wanted to be honest - the giants to stay out of the war? Harry had found it terribly amusing that another giant had killed the ruling gurg, the chieftain of a giant tribe, taken Dumbledore's gifts for himself and then joined up with Voldemort anyway. One of these gifts had been a goblin-forged helmet.

Tonks exchanged a quick nod with Fleur, not needing to speak to pick out a target. She knew that Luna would hang back and keep an eye out for other threats.

They used the same approach that Fleur had used in Hogsmeade. Conjure a serrated iron spike and banish it forcefully at a giant's throat. Messy and quite off-putting to see the literal rivers of blood gushing out of the massive humanoids, but it was the most efficient way to put them down.

Four of them had fallen before the other giants cottoned on to the fact that something was killing them. Even so, they couldn't do more than bellow in impotent fury. Flying was so overpowered, as Harry would say.

"Look out." Luna called out in warning, casting a powerful shield around them.

Tonks and Fleur reacted on reflex, one pouring her own magic into Luna's shield and the other conjuring a thick swarm of bugs to absorb anything that might get through anyway.

A volley of nasty curses splashed against the shield and one made it through, killing off many of the bugs but expelling its power on them.

"No-Nose must really be getting desperate if he's been teaching you lot how to fly." Tonks commented mockingly as their attackers came into view.

"Shut your mouth, whore!" A distinctly deranged looking Barty Crouch Jr. said as he floated towards them with several other Death Eaters at his back. His face had a nervous tic to it. Make that several nervous tics, she amended when she noted his eyebros twitching and tongue flicking out every few seconds.

"Why do they always say that?" Luna wondered with honest curiosity, tilting her head sideways.

"Harry would probably say that minions don't rate any good trash talk dialogue." Tonks shrugged. "As much as his video game logic pisses me off sometimes, he's probably right. They wouldn't be serving a sadistic madman if they were smart after all."

"We're going to kill you sluts, and then we're going to rape your corpses." Rodolphus Lestrange bellowed furiously.

"See what I mean?"

"Is it just me, or are they looking a bit… damaged?" Fleur interjected, actually sounding amused.

Tonks had to agree. Barty Crouch's spastic facial tics were just the most obvious sign of something being seriously wrong with all of them. Lestrange seemed permanently enraged and the last obvious leader of the group, Rookwood, was just floating quietly next to them with a dead look in his eyes. Although Tonks was not as good at sensing auras as Harry - or even as good as Fleur to be honest - she could still easily sense that these were some messed up people.

Figures, really. As Voldemort's top remaining followers, they'd have borne the brunt of his attentions. The nine masked Death Eaters behind them didn't feel quite as bad off, but they probably didn't qualify as entirely sane anymore either.

"The master has tasked us with killing you." Rookwood spoke in a dead tone that perfectly matched his expression. His had been the curse that made it through their shield.

"See, that's going to be a problem." Tonks said, taking a firmer grip on her staff. She also instinctively moved body mass around to reinforce her bones and muscles. Within moments, she was in the lean, short-haired, flat-chested, genderless combat form that she always assumed for serious fighting.

"I'm not going to let you hurt my family." Luna added. Despite her simple words and tone, the resolve behind the statement was as unbending as iron.

"And I will burn you for trying." Fleur finished with a hard glare. Her normally sensual aura gave way to the more incendiary parts of her ancestry, creating a slight heat shimmer effect around her.

There was a long moment when everything seemed to freeze - the bellows of the giants, the screams of the people, the sounds of combat and the roar of flames - before the tension suddenly snapped and spells started flying.

All three of them knew that if Voldemort had taught this bunch how to fly, that they were likely a specialised kill team or something of that nature, so they absolutely could not allow themselves to be encircled. They flew backwards in unison, Tonks and Luna blocking while Fleur sent out a wave of fire to give the Death Eaters something to worry about.

The fire guttered out under multiple dispelling charms and the Death Eaters pressed forward like a bloodthirsty flock of oversized bats.

The girls gave way easily, seeing no need to engage head on.

While Tonks and Luna continued to focus on shielding, Fleur hurled fireballs back at their foes.

"Having trouble aiming, creature?" Lestrange sneered as he and his fellows easily dodged most of the counter-attack.

"Am I?" Fleur asked back, black eyes glittering.

Rookwood started in surprise and turned his head around. His eyes went wide as he saw over a dozen fireballs hovering in the air behind their backs.

"Look out!" He called out a warning, just as the fireballs began moving.

To the Death Eaters' credit, they reacted swiftly and managed to put up a strong shield to defend themselves, but they were in a bad situation by anyone's standards. The fireballs hammered the shield and clipped one of the Death Eaters that was on the edge of it. At the same time, Tonks cast a Bone Mangler, the Bone Breaker's more vicious big brother, at Lestrange's legs.

One of the lesser Death Eaters saw it coming and put up a shield, but the power behind it shattered it and sent him plummeting down to the ground as he lost control of his flight spell.

"Get in between the buildings!" Crouch bellowed a few seconds later.

"This again." Fleur's lip curled, immediately seeing the familiar strategy of hiding behind human shields to curtail the power they could bring to bear.

It made tactical sense, the Death Eaters had obviously figured out that they were less coordinated, less comfortable in the air and just plain less skilled, but it was still a damn frustrating way to fight.

A sonic boom cut off any possible reply, followed by a quick series of explosions blooming against the bodies of the giants, whom they had moved some distance away from during their brief fight. Great bloody craters were blown out of their flesh and they fell.

"Were those military jets?" Luna sounded entirely too excited for the situation.

"Yes, yes they were." Tonks sighed, the sense of losing control intensifying.

"So much for the mighty giants." Fleur quipped. Anyone that knew anything about the modern world could guess that giants would be nothing but target practice to a modern military. There was no creature alive that was tough enough to shrug off a missile.

"Let's just get the Death Eaters." Tonks grumbled. "And try to take at least Lestrange alive."

Despite knowing that taking a page out of Voldemort's book and disregarding any considerations of collateral damage would be a terrible idea in the long term, it sure was starting to feel tempting when the ugly bastard kept on hiding behind human shields.

Trying to cut off access points for the fleeing non-magicals was pointless because Voldemort could simply relocate and there were so many that he was not in danger of running out anytime soon.

Harry was not having a terribly hard time of it keeping himself free of injury. Not only was he reasonably familiar with Voldemort's fighting style and spell repertoire by now, but he also had the high ground advantage, so to speak.

That didn't help him actually do anything to the maniac though. He was having to improvise a whole new combat style on the fly, one that would allow him to focus magic with pinpoint precision. Unfortunately, this was a lot harder than the gratuitous destruction he had relied on before and the middle of a battle was not a good place to be doing this.

"You are weak, Harry!" Voldemort cackled crazily. "Your concern for these petty creatures makes you weak!"

Harry wondered if Voldemort had completely lost the ability to plan long term and consider any viewpoint other than his own. It was starting to feel like it.

"Why don't you come up here and we'll see who's weak?" Harry taunted, not really expecting it to work.

That was why he was very surprised when it actually did.

"Tom, I'm surprised at you." He said mockingly. "Where is this sudden bout of bravery coming from?"

"I have nothing to fear from you, Potter!" Voldemort spat angrily. "I am immortal!"

"Immortal is not the same as invincible." Harry countered.

"Even if you strike me down, I shall return, greater and more powerful." The Dark Lord continued boasting as if Harry hadn't spoken. "You didn't find all my Horcruxes, and now you never will!"

"Ah, finally figured out I was on to that, did you?" Harry asked sighed. "How typical of you to be as difficult as possible. Aren't you even a little bit tired of clinging to this sad existence of yours by now?"

"DO NOT MOCK ME!" Voldemort shrieked and the battle continued.

Harry was simultaneously pleased and irritated to discover that they were in a firm stalemate. Not only had they already used up most of their respective surprises during their previous clashes, but Voldemort was also fighting with less cunning than before and the need to keep a part of their focus on maintaining their flight slowed things down, which worked more in his favor. The air around them rippled and twisted from the ruinous power of their spells, but the battle wasn't actually going anywhere. It was technically progress compared to barely being able to keep up, but far from ideal.

"It won't go away." Harry spoke when there was a lull in the fighting.

"What won't go away?" Voldemort sneered.

"The fear. Tell me, what was it like to be a disembodied wraith? Did you feel the hungry presence of the Void all around you?" Harry kept his voice low and twined a compelling enchantment into his words. The Dark Lord's mind was clearly unstable and given the shattered state of his soul he was more than likely permanently emotionally unstable as well, so this avenue of attack may be promising.

"Why don't you find out for yourself!" Voldemort snarled and lashed out with yet another vicious curse.

Harry blocked it with a chuckle. The spell was familiar and easily undone. "Oh, I feel it always. But unlike you, I don't see anything to be afraid of."

"I fear nothing!"

"Is that why you've mutilated your soul to stay anchored to this world? Because you aren't afraid?"

Voldemort made an incoherent sound of rage and swooped in between the buildings again. His yell echoed strangely and every bit of glass he passes shattered and followed him.

Harry gave chase, but stayed back far enough to give himself time to react. He had a feeling that he knew what the play was here and it wasn't terribly dangerous to him.

Voldemort soon landed on the street, this one mostly empty, but there were a few people peeking out of doors and windows.

The Dark Lord raised his arms like a conductor of a grand orchestra and all the shattered glass flew towards Harry.

Who simply raised his hand in the universal symbol for 'stop' and the glass stopped, shuddered in place and fell to the ground.

"Really? You thought that would work on me of all people?" The crude telekinesis was an advanced application of the Will Manifestation part of using magic without a wand. Easily countered by one who also knew it, especially when they held greater mastery.

"Curse you, Potter!" Voldemort screamed, firing a chain of spells before flinging a parked car at his enemy.

Harry glided to the side to avoid a trio of particularly nasty curses, blocked one that was merely debilitating and created a sort of magical ramp in the path of the car so that its trajectory was adjusted. It hit one of the buildings further down the road up on the first storey with a thunderous crash and then fell down on the sidewalk, bounced a few times, slid for a few more meters and finally stopped in a barely recognizable heap. Judging by the screaming behind him, it may have killed a few people, but he couldn't afford to take the time to block the improvised projectile head on.

It wasn't even because the car had a lot of kinetic energy. Bullets had a lot of kinetic energy and they were pitifully easy to block, but magic didn't work that way. Bigger objects simply had more metaphysical 'weight' that allowed them to smash through shields.

"Why do you curse me, Tom?" Harry once again wrapped his words in subtle compulsion magic. "I am the only thing you have left to live for."

"YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME! JUST DIE!"

"You may as well ask to live without blood, or deny you breathe air!" Harry retorted mockingly, having to fight down an inappropriate grin at getting a chance to quote the Lord of Murder. Pissing the twat off was even more satisfying with video game quotes. It didn't even matter whether there was any truth to what he was saying, as long as it made him angry.

"I HATE YOU!" Voldemort howled, nearly incoherent with rage. All pretense at sophistication had long since been defenestrated. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUTUP!"

"I know you do." Harry nodded sagely, easily deflecting the spells coming his way. The Dark Lord was nearly frothing at the mouth like a rabid animal at this point and barely structuring his attacks. The variety left much to be desired as well. Still dangerous, but predictable. "That's why you need me. Who would you hate if I was gone? What would be left of you?"

"NRRRRGH!"

"That's why you will never be free of your fears." Harry continued over Voldemort's latest attempt to kill him. "You may have convinced yourself that your anchors are armor keeping away the Reaper's scythe, but in truth they are chains hooked into your heart and what remains of your soul, and their bite is made that much more cruel for being self-wrought."

The shield spell rippled like a pool of water as it absorbed Voldemort's reply. Harry's staff crackled with electrical energy as he pointed it at the Dark Lord.

Voldemort's mad eyes widened and he quickly conjured up a semi-solid silver shield. Just in time too, as the arc of lighting struck it mere moments later. The shield seemed to suck in and disperse most of the energy, quite unlike what would happen if the shield was really something that conducted electricity as well as actual silver, and he was sent sliding back a good two meters from the force of the impact.

"You think power will ease the pain of your existence? Only an honest death will grant you relief, but you are too much of a coward to accept it, so you lash out and make the world scream alongside you, as if hurting less by comparison will make it more bearable. What a pitiable creature you are, and how embarrassing for me to be associated with you through prophecy."

Harry kept walking forward as he spoke, by now having a downright easy time of it. Voldemort had abandoned all planning, strategy and cunning, degenerating to just throwing out the most vicious curses in his arsenal. Curses that he was quite familiar with and knew how to counter, so it didn't particularly matter how much rage-fuelled power they were cast with. There was never any benefit to losing control of your emotions like that, especially for a wizard. The only thing Harry really had to watch out for was the occasional Cruciatus, but that one had a very distinct energy signature and could be seen coming a mile away.

Inversely, his return fire often sent Voldemort stumbling. With his current state of mind, it was obviously hard to think of defense and it showed. Harry could have pressed him much harder in fact, but he deliberately made it seem as if the fight was a lot more even than it actually was. Voldemort didn't pick up on this because rage had driven all thought from his head that didn't include hurting one Harry Potter, which was Just As Planned.

If he could just get close enough to lunge at the snakey bastard and grab him by the throat it would be game over. There were ways to indefinitely contain even someone that couldn't be killed.

Unfortunately, Voldemort eventually cottoned on to the fact that only cycling between three or four of his favorite curses was counter-productive and brought his rage back under control. Tenuous control, but control all the same. He also stopped responding to goading, which made further advancement inadvisable. That was Not As Planned, but there was a good reason why going for physical contact was a target of opportunity instead of Plan A.

At least Voldy still hadn't remembered that he could hide behind random bystanders. The incredibly stupid random bystanders that clearly had deficient survival instincts, as Harry's peripheral vision occasionally glimpsed them gaping at the fight from behind corners, doorways or windows. Some of them were even recording it! No doubt this was going to end up on YouTube, if it hadn't already.

How strange it must look to them, when they couldn't see the spells. One freakish, noseless, red-eyed, man/snake hybrid waving about a pale stick, facing off against a yellow-eyed man with half his face covered in scars waving about a blood-red staff, with shit exploding or melting or growing teeth or what have you all around them. The occasional blast of elemental magic or physical projectile would be the only thing they could see.

"You're looking a bit peaky over there, Tom." Harry quipped when another lull in the fighting occured, standing on top of a parked car that was miraculously undamaged. The street around them was torn to pieces and littered with all sorts of debris. He could hear the distinct chopping sounds of a helicopter somewhere relatively close by.

His observation made little sense to regular sight. While Voldemort was certainly breathing hard, his nose slits flaring with every breath, he looked like he could easily still keep going. It was the state of his magic that Harry was commenting on. The Dark Lord had been running on rage for quite a while now and his aura was much diminished as a result, a clear indication of impending magical exhaustion.

Not that Harry wasn't feeling the effects of trading spells with such a powerful wizard, but he hadn't been recklessly burning through his strength the way his enemy had. The drain was in fact the most likely reason for Voldemort's mad rage cooling a bit.

"I will kill you." Voldemort spoke as if he was trying to strangle the words, then he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. There had actually been some foamy spit dribbling down his chin, so great was his fury. Rather unsightly, actually "I will kill everyone and everything you value."

"More threats? How droll. The words are as empty now as they have always been, but I suppose your pride won't let you run away without saying them." Harry mocked. "Go on then, run away. We can continue this once you've recovered your strength."

Voldemort clenched his fists and ground his teeth together, but he neither attacked nor fled. Ah, pride, so often the doom of powerful men. Harry knew that he would have hated having to swallow his own and fleeing in disgrace if their positions were reversed. How much worse must it be for a Dark Lord who had nothing to cling to besides power?

"Well, weren't you leaving?" Harry prompted after a few seconds of angry silence. "You know you can't beat me, so you might as well activate that portkey I know you have on you."

The way Voldemort's body tensed and his magic rose betrayed the choice he made.

Harry jumped over the Killing Curse, hearing the car's windshield shatter behind him as it was hit by the deadly spell. He retaliated by melting the bit of road Voldemort was standing on into sticky tar.

Instead of gliding backwards to give himself more room, the Dark Lord lunged forward.

Harry was surprised, but also gleeful. If the fool got close enough he would throw aside his staff, dodge or tank whatever spell Voldemort was going to throw and give the ugly bastard a big hug. Big enough to crush his spine.

Voldemort swung his wand in a wide arc and a very familiar feeling descended, instantly putting an end to that plan. Dark roared into the world in the shape of flame.

Harry brought his will down on the forming Fiendfyre, trying to smother it before it could erupt, but he was losing ground. The Dark fire was difficult enough to grapple with at the best of times and with Voldemort also willing it to spread and destroy as it wanted to do anyway, he wasn't able to snuff it out and it burst to life.

"Now we will both die, Harry!" Voldemort cackled through the rapidly spreading flames. "But I will return and you will not."

That was a good plan, Harry had to admit. If you were going to be unkillable then you might as well abuse the shit out of it. He certainly would have done so a long time ago.

He quickly cycled through his available options. Keep fighting against both the natural inclinations of the Fiendfyre and Voldemort's will? Certain death. Fly out? Certain death. Apparition? It would take a moment to gather his focus, possible interference from the Fiendfyre. High chance of crippling injury or death. Portkey? Not quite instantaneous, unknown interaction with the Fiendfyre. Risky, best kept as a last resort. Bunkering down and calling the girls to come bail him out? Minor damage to his pride, but by far the safest option.

"This will not be the end of me." He stated with simple finality, setting his feet into a wide stance and gripping his staff in front of him. The basilisk-shaped Fiendfyre coiled around him as if it was trying to crush him, but it could not enter the exclusion zone he was maintaining.

"I will not be denied!" Voldemort hissed furiously and pressed harder, trying to force the fire into his little safety bubble while also maintaining his own.

Left unattended except for not being allowed to consume the two most powerful sources of magic nearby, the Fiendfyre began turned its attention to everything around them.

The sudden eruption of flames was visible far and wide. Those who recognised the unusual shape and behavior of it as Fiendfyre were nearly frozen with horror at the thought of that particular bit of magic being loose in the middle of a crowded city.

Tonks, Luna and Fleur instantly knew that Harry was in the thick of it, even before the tug on their blood came.

They abandoned their running battle with Rookwood, Crouch, Lestrange and their cronies without a second thought and sped towards the Fiendfyre. Their man was calling for help and he was not the sort to do that unless he really needed it.

"They are following us." Luna noted moments later, uncharacteristic frustration in her voice.

Tonks and Fleur took a quick look behind them and scowled. It would have been a little funny to have their quarry chasing them for a change, but right now it was a problem they could have done without.

"Go, I'll keep them busy." Tonks ordered.

Fleur hesistated for a moment, but they could all see the the Fiendfyre basilisk coiling around the spot where they sensed Harry was and there was no telling how long he would be able to hold out. Even if it didn't burn him, he would run out of air soon. They just didn't have time to deal with the Death Eaters first.

"Be careful." She said before speeding away with Luna.

Tonks peeled away to the side, throwing a few spells at the pursuing Death Eaters to draw their attention, thinking of viable strategies.

There were no non-combatants to use as shields up here, she was more comfortable in the air than them as well as suffciently skilled and powerful to be confident in handling them three, four or even five on one. Unfortunately there were still nine of the original dozen left and whatever training Voldemort had put them through had made them capable of mustering up the will and focus necessary to use the Unforgivables in combat. She couldn't beat them in a straight fight.

But she didn't need to beat them, did she? All she had to do was keep them away from Luna and Fleur. Simple enough. Their numerical advantage wouldn't mean anything if they couldn't catch her.

It worked well for a while, as the Death Eaters failed to move quickly enough to encircle her and she was able to lead them further away, but that success didn't last long.

"Go after the other two bitches!" She heard Lestrange holler. "We'll take this one!"

Tonks scowled angrily when she saw Rookwood and Crouch break off and head towards where Luna and Fleur were even now trying to subdue the Fiendfyre. That just wouldn't do.

She dove towards the group of six that thought they could turn their backs on her like a missile. Lestrange and his group sent a few spells her way but she sensed them coming and was able to dodge them blind.

Since getting into another spell exchange would swiftly devolve into a repeat of the previous situation, Tonks elected to do something a little different. The Death Eaters were not as fast in the air as she was and catching up was easy, but she didn't stop. Instead, she turned so that she was flying feet first when she collided with one of the black-robed scum, Rookwood to be precise, since she had pegged him as the most dangerous of the bunch. The feeling of bones crunching under her heels was immensely satisfying, as was seeing the former Unspeakable plummet to the ground. He didn't make much noise, oddly enough. Her metamorph-reinforced bones and muscles allowed her to absorb the force of the impact with just a grunt and a slight twinge of pain.

"What?" Crouch spluttered in shock as he turned towards her.

Tonks lunged at him and swung her staff like a club. Hardly the most sophisticated use of a magical focus, but it sure was nice to see him reel back with blood and broken teeth flying from his mouth.

The lesser Death Eaters didn't know what to do. One of their targets was right there, but she was in the middle of them and brawling like a muggle. A flying muggle, but still a muggle. Any spells they cast were just as likely to hit one of their own as her and getting away was proving problematic.

Tonks, on the other hand, was actually enjoying this. Fighting these bastards earlier had been frustrating in the extreme because they kept hiding behind hostages, so clobbering them over the head and watching them fall as they lost control of their flight due to both the hits and the presence of her much stronger aura was kind of therapeutic. Not all of them crashed to the ground - most didn't in fact, now that the element of surprise was lost she couldn't quite manage to get another crippling blow in and a looming date with asphalt or concrete at terminal velocity was excellent motivation to regain focus - but that just meant that she could do it all over again. If they tried to grab onto her, she would let out blasts of raw force that pushed them back and if they tried to get away she could jump right back on top of them. There were a few close calls when they scattered to open up space, but her awareness and the resilience of her basilisk hide armor was good enough to see her through.

Then she recalled that Harry insisted that they all carry knives. She'd never gotten to use hers, but this was an exactly the situation to do so.

"Kill her, damn you!" Crouch shouted in a panic, barely coherent with his ruined mouth. He was one of those that had managed to spare himself from the fall. The cause of his panic was that he had just seen one of his men get their throat slashed and the bloodied knife was now coming his way.

Lestrange had long since caught up and decided to do as his fellow Death Eater requested. That Crouch was between him and the metamorph was not something that concerned him. Their master's Fiendfyre was gone and he could already see Potter and his other two witches approaching. Terror filled him at the thought of failing to kill at least one of them as the master had commanded.

Jaw clenched so tightly that it hurt, he cast the most powerful blasting curse he could right at Crouch's back.

Tonks had her knife buried in said Death Eater's guts and the proximity of his aura caused enough interference in her sensing that she didn't become aware of the spell in time. It hit and pretty much ripped right through him.

Head ringing from the explosion and wounded, she instinctively flew backwards, towards safety. Moments later she hit something and a familiar, powerful presence enveloped her.

My hand is gone . Tonks noted with surreal calm, staring at the bloodied sleeve of her coat. She had already automatically started using her metamorph power to seal the ragged wound, but it was still quite gruesome to look at. Didn't hurt much though. And I'm in shock.

Strong hands turned her around to face a pair of fiercely glowing yellow eyes set in a familiar face that was scrunched together in concern. She liked them better green.

A little earlier…

Harry remained as immovable as a boulder, maintaining a zone of safety within the Fiendfyre inferno in spite of Voldemort's increasingly more desperate efforts to disrupt it. The Dark Lord had expended too much of his strength earlier and would soon be consumed in his own conflagration.

That wouldn't do much to improve Harry's situation though. One did not simply get encircled by Fiendfyre and then waltz out just because the caster was gone. The blaze had now grown very strong and it would take some effort to subdue it. More importantly, it would take time . Time that he didn't have, because even if the Dark fire didn't go after oxygen like regular fire, it didn't not consume it either.

Two more presences entered the ontological tug of war, ones that he was very familiar with. Luna and Fleur.

Harry frowned. Where was Dora?

Not time for that now. The three of them easily pooled their efforts in opposition to Voldemort. The Dark Lord was… surprised? Figures that he would once again fail to account for something so basic as competent outside help arriving. In any case, they were able to use their shared strength to crush his flagging one and the Fiendfyre consumed him in a way that could only be described as gleeful.

The raging specter that left his body was expected. It briefly distorted the flames into Voldemort's face as he passed through it, but achieved nothing more of note.

Now alone against the Dark-driven flame, the three of them worked to snuff it out. It resisted as it always did, but they remained implacable and slowly forced it down.

"And I thought the giants were going to be bad." Harry muttered when it was done, sensing more than seeing the vast, silent field of ash that used to be a bustling piece of London. The Fiendfyre had gone through it like it was made of straw.

"Harry! are you alright?" Fleur flew at him and asked in concern.

Harry blinked at her to bring the silver-haired veela into focus. Her shining hair was the only thing he could actually see. Barely.

"Fine. Where's Dora?"

"Fighting. Come on, we need to go help her."

He wasn't going to argue with that and they swiftly flew in the direction that their blood-bound bracelets were telling them that their missing lover was. All three of them had had their nightvision thoroughly ruined by the blaze and were flying almost blind.

"I see Dora has discovered the joys of beating people to death." Harry noted humorously, seeing his lover ping-ponging between the Death Eaters. Well, 'seeing' might not be quite the right term. Although his currently lupine eyes were adapting quickly to the darker light conditions, he was still mostly relying on his Magesight to perceive what was going on.

That gave him an excellent view of Lestrange's dirty tactic. The blasting curse almost seemed to travel in slow motion. Confringo, high power, direct blocking inadvisable, deflect or avoid. His mind analysed unhelpfully.

"NO!" Both Fleur and Luna yelled in worry beside him, able to sense that Dora was injured through their blood-binding just as well as him.

Harry was calmer, able to see that while Dora's aura showed injury and distress, there was no indication of it being anywhere close to fatal. And she was still keeping hold of her staff, which wouldn't have happened if the injury was too grievous. The metamorphmagus was flying in his direction and he was more than happy to pull her along. A short-lived cushion of magic kep the impact from being painful and he quickly wrapped her up in his presence, for his own reassurance as much as hers.

He had insisted that all three of his girls train hard and often if they were going to be associated with him and especially if they were determined to go into combat with him. He had already experienced the price of complacency himself on the night that Luna's father was killed and didn't allow them to fall into the trap of thinking that there was such a thing as 'good enough'. This event was an unwelcome reminder of that lesson.

He turned Dora around and looked into her eyes, seeing the dazed look of a person that had gone into shock.

"Are you alright?" He demanded more than asked.

Dora waved her left hand at him, or the lack of it rather. Ah, traumatic limb loss. That would explain the shock.

"Get her home, we're done here." Harry ordered to Fleur and Luna.

The two of them nodded and took hold of her, swiftly vanishing in the swirl of a portkey.

Harry turned his attention to the Death Eaters hovering watchfully a small distance away. There were only five left of them, and with Voldemort having almost certainly moved his Horcruxes it meant that there was nothing stopping him from getting some instant revenge on the fool that had the gall to maim Dora. That she'd be getting the hand back either through her own power or by his craft was irrelevant.

He hovered towards them slowly, unthreateningly. Even from a distance he could see them almost trembling from the tension. It marked them as prey in his subconscious.

He stopped when he was in easy conversation distance and took them in again. They all looked like they desperately wanted to activate their portkeys, but some kind of terror or pride kept them frozen in the air. They were still obviously skittish though and likely to flee at the first sign of aggression. The strike would have to be swift and final.

Lestrange was the only one unmasked, and cold sweat was pouring down his face. His eyes were flitting everywhere, desperately avoiding his own bright yellow ones.

"Congratulations." He said conversationally, not needing his enhanced motion perception to notice how they all twitched at the sound. "Wounding one of my girls is no small feat, even if you had her outnumbered. Well done."

The honest compliment obviously threw them and there was a long silence as they figred out a way to respond. Harry was happy to give them all the time they needed. Death was creeping closer with every moment they wasted thinking instead of fleeing.

"What did you do to Bella and Rabastan, you bastard." Lestrange hollered once he'd recovered what few wits he had. It was obvious to Harry that he was trying to cover up his fear with anger.

"Oh, they're still alive." Harry replied casually. His spell was nearly done. "Come work for me and I'll let you see them."

There was another stunned silence before Lestrange started laughing hysterically. The crazed kind of hysterically more than the funny kind.

"You think we would betray our master like that?" He screeched. It was probably supposed to sound furious, but it came off as desperate.

"No, I just needed you to stay still for a while." Harry smiled unpleasantly. " Space-Time Implosion. "

Reality itself seemed to collapse inward and suddenly that spot of the sky didn't have enough room for five bodies to occupy. Flesh and bone was mashed together like discarded cars in one of those industrial crushers. Then the natural order of things reasserted itself and the spot of space-time snapped back to normal like a rubber band, sending pulverized chunks of Death Eater flying in all directions.

As a consequence of his research into creating the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, Harry had learned ways to manipulate the space-time continuum. Didn't work well if there was other active magic in the area and required your enemy to be kind enough to stay still for nearly half a minute. Not to mention that it was blindingly easy to sense happening if one had the ability to do so. Completely useless in combat, but satisfyingly messy.

Harry calmly dropped the shield that had kept any of the gore from landing on him and started flying towards the area where the Raven Host had gone.

From high up in the sky, the damage to London looked even worse. A great big patch of it was reduced to ash, another part had been smashed by giants and yet another was full of corpses torn apart by inferi. The helicopter he'd heard earlier was actually two helicopters, one belonging to the police and one that he thought was likely from some news outlet or another. He could almost feel their eyes on him as he flew by. Lovely.

If there was a worse way to expose magic to the world then Harry couldn't think of one. The shadow cast by this one event would darken the future for a hundred years or more.

It made him wonder if that had been Voldemort's aim all along, rather than just him being a spiteful lunatic and sore loser. Then again, those two things weren't mutually exclusive.

Amelia regretted not retiring, she truly did. How do you even begin fixing this mess?

The inferi had been relatively easy to take care of, but there had been many of them and the damage they'd done in the streets packed with people celebrating the New Year had been horrendous. The muggle police had showed up in force and there had been a few tense moments, but everyone had been able to instinctively agree that the walking dead needed to be handled before they started pointing guns and wands at each other.

Not that it ever got to that point, because the ICW's Obliviator squads had showed up about halfway through the battle and started wiping memories from every muggle in sight without even bothering to get a feel for the situation. Amelia would have upbraided any of her Aurors for doing something so bloody stupid.

As it turned out, the Obliviators got something worse. The muggle police, already angry and on edge, had seen wizards waving their wands at the frightened people huddling against cars and buildings and opened fire without hesitation. Those muggle firearm things might not have been the best weapon to use against inferi, but they were plenty deadly against living people. The surprised Obliviators never stood a chance.

That could have very easily spiralled out of control, if not for the fortuitous presence of Dumbledore, who had been helping with the inferi instead of fighting Voldemort alongside Potter simply because he couldn't fly. The old wizard had been able to use both his authority as the Supreme Mugwump and his power to put a lid on the situation and refocus everyone on the walking dead.

They had now been disposed of, but the tensions were higher than ever. The muggle police had positioned themselves in front of the non-combatants and looked ready to turn their weapons on the wizards at any moment. The Obliviators were understandably angry at four of their own being killed and looked ready to do more than just wipe memories. Dumbledore was trying to calm everyone down and exerting quite a bit of his personal power to prevent violence and Potter's Raven Host was standing off to the side but looked more likely to side with the muggles than the ICW Obliviators if it came down to it.

Amelia herself was in the difficult position of talking to the muggle police officer that seemed to be in charge. He had introduced himself as a Captain Peter Dixon of the SAS, whatever that was. The man might be a muggle, but he was implacable in his demands for information, did not balk at the existence of magic for more than a second and didn't ask any useless questions. She'd dealt with muggle police before, most notably in recent years after Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban, but they'd never been quite so intense. Out of a desire to placate the man's justifiably foul temper and prevent any more fighting between them, Amelia was a lot more free with information than she would normally be, reasoning that he would probably be obliviated of the knowledge later anyway.

The tension continued to grow as the Aurors she'd sent out to hunt down any stray inferi flew in on brooms, more muggle police converged on the area and the argument between the leader of the ICW contingent and Dumbledore heated up.

Then it grew some more as muggles started peeking out of windows and doors, talking and pointing all sorts of devices down at them and in general doing things that had the Obliviators going purple as the Statute of Secrecy was almost visibly collapsing right in front of their eyes and they were prevented from doing anything about it. One of those loud muggle flying contraptions passed overhead and Amelia saw a large camera being pointed their way.

Despite her mixed feelings about Potter, she nearly slumped with relief when he flew in. If nothing else, he had at least drawn all the attention to himself and away from the ever more tenuous stalemate.

"Who's that?" Captain Dixon asked her, gripping his weapon tightly.

"An ally. Harry Potter. Young, but extremely powerful. Rules a small magical nation. The Raven Host are his people." Amelia replied quickly as Potter went to talk to the leader of said group. "We should go talk to him, he was the one fighting Riddle."

Dixon grunted in agreement and they made their way towards him. Dumbledore and the leader of the ICW contingent seemed to have the same idea. Amelia did her best not to grimace at how unpleasant this was likely to be. Every single person in the looming conversation was used to being in charge.

There was a tense moment once the four of them reached Potter, nobody seeming to be quite sure how to begin.

"Yes?" Harry prompted, seeming slightly bemused at how they'd all converged on him.

"Harry, what happened to Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh, he got angry that I was winning, cast Fiendfyre and ran away." Potter explained and exchanged a look with Dumbledore that Amelia just knew was conveying extra information that the two of them didn't feel like sharing. Bastards.

"What I want to know is why you picked London to have your fights in." Dixon ground out.

"Believe me, I'd have preferred a nice isolated patch of nothing just as much as you. Unfortunately, Voldemort is a lunatic that figured out I was unwilling to write random people off as collateral damage. Combine that with his general hatred for all things non-magical and here we are. This might not have happened if someone " Potter directed his glare at the ICW representative. "had taken my warnings about him seriously instead of waving them off."

"I don't decide on ICW policy or the policies of its constituents." The Obliviator said stiffly at the accusation. "I'm just here to make sure that the Statute of Secrecy is upheld."

"You can't just go around wiping people's memories!" Dixon snapped.

"And you can't just go around killing my men!"

"They were waving those sticks of theirs at civilians, what was I supposed to think?"

"They're wands, not sticks, muggle." The Obliviator sneered.

"Why you…" Dixon glowered, gripping his weapon again.

" Enough ." Potter's voice cut through the escalating confrontation like a guillotine. Useful that.

"That's better." He continued without obvious magical enhancement after everyone had turned their attention back to him. "First, the Statute of Secrecy. This breach is too big, you'll never be able to repair it. Suck it up and move on. Second, your men. They should have known better than to make any threatening moves in a dangerous, volatile and emotionally charged situation. Suck it up and move on."

"Harry, I don't think-" Dumbledore started cautiously, only to get interrupted.

"It doesn't matter what you think!" Potter snapped, obviously in a foul mood himself. "That's how it is and the sooner everyone accepts it the better off we're all going to be. You're the fucking Supreme Mugwump, so beat some fucking sense into the ICW before they do something extremely fucking stupid."

"You're suggesting we stop trying to cover up magic?" Amelia asked slowly, finding the notion difficult to accept. Keeping magic a secret from the muggles had always been one of the Ministry's primary concerns.

"I'm saying it would be pointless. There were hundreds of thousands of people here when the attack happened and I have no doubt that hundreds of thousands more are watching uploaded video footage of it as we speak. It's a new world now and we're just going to have to get used to it."

"We can't just ignore our highest laws like that!" The Obliviator snapped back. He was obviously still smarting from being told to 'suck it up and move on'. Amelia would be too if someone had told her that just after she lost several Aurors.

"I suppose nobody ever complained about a grave being dug too deep." Potter shrugged and turned away, obviously opting out of the situation now that he'd said his piece.

Amelia didn't like the implications of that statement. What did he know that she didn't?

Harry was glad to be back home. A nice long bath and a few subjective days in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber were exactly what he needed right now. But first, to check up on his injured girlfriend.

He found all three of his girls as well as both sets of surviving parents in the primary sitting room. They always did worry when their daughters went into battle and they had sort of adopted Luna as well.

"It's really not that bad, Mum." Dora was insiting, waving off Andromeda's fussing. "I'll have it back soon. The only reason I haven't tried to regrow it yet is because I know Harry'll want to watch."

So considerate!

"It's true, she grows extra appendages all the time. Regorwing one that she should have in the first place should be easy in comparison." Fleur said teasingly.

That was a good point.

"What kind of appendages?" Gabrielle asked and Harry was sure that she had a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Mostly penises." Luna provided helpfully. "Although she also does horns, hooves or sometimes tentacles. Harry is especially fond of small tentacles in her vagina. She also did a tail once but fell on it and refuses to try again."

"Luna!" Dora groaned in despair.

"I did not need to know that." Ted sounded pained.

Harry decided that he had eavesdropped long enough and entered the room.

"Honeys, I'm home." He said sardonically.

"Harry!" Luna exclaimed and jumped to give him a hug.

Once the obligatory greetings were finished, Harry grabbed Dora's left hand to inspect the stump. It looked as if it had healed up years ago.

"Alright, go for it." He said, paying close attention.

"Right." Dora said and scrunched her face together in concentration.

"Fascinating." Harry murmured as the missing appendage slowly took shape.

"Huh, that was actually easier than I expected." Dora said when it was done, a bit nonplussed as she flexed her new hand.

"Well there wasn't any malicious magic residue in the wound, so there wasn't any reason for it to be hard. Any strange sensations? Phantom pains? Lag in responses?" Harry asked, poking and prodding at the fresh hand experimentally.

"No, I just feel kind of hungry."

"Hmm, must be from the lost mass. Usually you just shift things around."

"Makes sense." She nodded.

Teeny popped in without warning.

"Teeny made Mistress Nymmie a sandwich." The eager house elf said, holding out a rather huge sandwich towards the metamorphmagus.

Harry had to fight down a grin at the name that Fleur had taught them to use.

"Thanks, Teeny." Dora said and took it, making the house elf hop in delight before popping away.

"What happened out there?" Andromeda asked quietly.

So they launched into a retelling of recent events. Everyone was proper apalled at what Voldemort had done.

"I still need to get back at Lestrange for costing me my hand." Dora said sourly.

"Too late, I turned him into bloody chunks already." Harry replied cheerfully.

"Didn't you want him alive?" Fleur asked with a frown.

"No point anymore. Voldemort figured out we were going after his Horcruxes and implied quite clearly that he'd moved them, so Lestrange was probably useless. Although…" Harry pursed his lips as he realised he might have been a bit hasty in killing them all. They might have still known something after all. Eh, they'd probably just have portkeyed out if he hadn't killed them instantly, so it was a net gain. "Nah, nevermind. Killing them was for the best."

"Yeah…" Dora sighed, going melancholy with such abruptness that Harry blinked in surprise. Even her hair turned a listless brown.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked with concern.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me." She gave him a fake smile that fooled nobody.

He shared look with Fleur and Luna, and they silently decided to give her a few days before bugging her about it. Dora responded well to support, but she could be obstinate about accepting it at first.

"Um, what's a Horcrux?" Gabrielle asked.

"I was wondering about that myself." Apolline chimed in, followed by everyone else. Even Andromeda had never heard of them before despite being a Black, which made sense since that knowledge had by all accounts been restricted to the main branch of the family.

"Soul anchor. You do a ritual, then you commit a murder to finish it and rip off a piece off your soul, stick said soul fragment into an object and voilà, immortality at the cost your humanity." Harry revealed unconcernedly. There wasn't much point in keeping it secret anymore.

" WHAT?! "

Except for the yelling. Why did people have to be so loud?

January 1st. 2019.

Bjomolf turned off the TV and scratched at his short beard with a bemused expression on his face. He had just finished watching a news report on the New Year's debacle in London.

"Well, that went well."

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Zuzanna asked with a frown at her sire's sarcastic tone.

"No, this is better . I thought we would have to help things along to make sure the breach in the Statute of Secrecy was irreparable. This is marvelous, I haven't miscalculated so splendidly in over three hundred years."

"What about Harry Potter, sir?"

Bjomolf hesitated. It was true that much hinged now on the powerful young wizard's actions. If he would not work with them then he would have to be carefully worked around since direct confrontation would not become a viable option for several decades at the absolute minimum, and not become wise ever.

"Perhaps he will feel like talking now." He finally said. "We will wait a few days to see how he responds to this situation and then extend another invitation."

January 3rd, 2019.

There were newspapers spread all over the table, both magical and mundane, from all over the world, all talking about either the discovery of magic or the massive breach of the Statute of Secrecy.

The mundane media was full of statements from government officials, 'expert' opinions, outright speculation and most damningly, statements from wizards and witches and squibs in the employ of the mundane government that Harry had long suspected existed.

Of any violent backlashes against magic there was no word, but it was only a matter of time. The various social media sites were full of hysterical idiots with shit for brains and through the lens of his Palantír, he had sensed horror and rage blanketing London like a thick fog.

The magical newspapers, no doubt 'encouraged' to do so, were trying to convince people that everything would be back to normal soon. Their own telemirror-based media was the only one really reporting on the sheer enormity of the breach, although it wasn't being broadcast much outside of Spellhaven due to information control efforts by local magical governments.

Harry, Dora, Fleur and Luna were flipping through the articles and trying to discern the extent of the damage. The final death toll and cost in property damage hadn't been determined yet, but it was bad. In fact, it was by far the worst calamity to happen anywhere in the western world since the Second World War. If it wasn't going to cause him no end of trouble, he'd actually be quite amused by all the melodramatic wailing this had stirred up. Nothing like a mass slaughter of civilians perpetrated by some lunatic to highlight how wimpy people had become during the long peace.

Adrastia was there as well. Something like this was a big enough deal that having her input could be valuable, although so far she seemed more interested in sharing her amusement with the situation. It made Harry wonder if Luna's words about her wanting a friend had some merit.

Narcissa showed up halfway through the meeting, having been attending emergency ICW conference in Switzerland.

"They are still trying to think of ways to cover it all up, even when it's obviously hopeless." She said, obviously frustrated.

Harry was frustrated too. Despite what he'd said and despite Dumbledore's best efforts, the ICW had still decided to try obliviating the shit out of everyone and they had pressured Fudge into going along with that plan. Obviously, the effort had failed due to the sheer scope of the breach and now the mundanes were extra pissed. Any tenuous good will that might have been created by Amelia Bones' cooperation with the police had been wiped out, communication was shoddy and haphazard, people were demanding all sorts of unrealistic things on both sides and nobody seemed inclined to be the voice of reason. It was a proper shitshow.

"They are panicking." Adrastia said with a smirk. "The ICW never did make provisions for a situation like this. To them, the complete collapse of the Statute of Secrecy was always considered to be an end of the world scenario."

"So we can't expect them to stop being stupid anytime soon?" Harry asked, mostly rhetorically.

"You say that as if they were ever anything else." Adrastia chuckled.

"You think there'll be a war?" Dora asked quietly.

Harry frowned in thought before slowly shaking his head. "No. Not a conventional sort of war at any rate. I could see the mundanes trying to enact purges in places that are still ruled by knuckle-dragging mouth-breathers such as Africa, the Middle East and parts of Asia and South America, but not in the nominally civilized parts of the world. In those parts, they'd more than likely think of the advantages of absorbing the magical world into their own power structures. Subjugation through politics, economics and social influence. The United States is an especially likely culprit given their obsession with 'defense' and how magic could enhance it."

"That couldn't really happen, could it?" Narcissa asked, obviously disturbed. Even though she had long since abandoned her prejudices against non-magical people, she was still a proud witch and would never accept the idea of the magical answering to the mundane.

"It could easily happen. There are more than seven and a half billion of them and less than a hundred thousand of us. No matter how much personally more powerful each one of us is individually, and very few of us are in any truly meaningful fashion, as a society we are far weaker simply because of that. Our economy is tiny in comparison, our social influence insignificant. Just look at the changes that crept in from the trickle of new blood and new ideas that Magical Britain got from its mundane counterpart over the years. Now imagine what would happen without the veil of secrecy throttling interaction between the two cultures."

"Don't forget that, as a general rule, magicals are also less politically savvy than our mundane counterparts because our societal problems tend to be rather straightforward." Adrastia chimed in.

"They'll ruin everything." Narcissa whispered.

"Yes, they will." Harry agreed. "The Ministry's bureaucrats are bad enough, but at least they're magical. Even the North American magi aren't as controlling as the mundanes would be, especially after Voldemort made such a good case for them on the dangers of magic. They'd put so many restrictions, mandatory registrations and surveillance on the use of magic that it would likely fade out of existence within a century. Under no circumstances will I allow that to happen."

"You have a plan to prevent it?" The blonde witch asked knowingly, staring at him with a smile that conveyed her complete faith in him.

"Something like that. Spellhaven at the very least is in no immediate danger since we're not living among the general population."

Narcissa understood the implication that he wouldn't be sharing his plans with her just yet.

"That won't be good enough." Adrastia spoke up, examining her nails as if she didn't care one way or another. "If you want to do something, you should talk to a reporter."

"Why would I do that?" Harry frowned.

Adrastia gave him an 'are you stupid?' look. "The British Ministry of Magic and the ICW are sowing the seeds of an implacable hatred on the fertile ground that Riddle has prepared. If you don't step forward and nip this in the bud, they will bear fruit and somewhere down the line your only recourse will be to set it all ablaze."

Harry scowled mulishly. The words made sense, but he didn't want to be the one dealing with this.

"There is no one else." Adrastia continued, apparently guessing at his thoughts.

"Fine." He grunted after nearly half a minute of stubborn silence, wishing that the ICW and everyone else would just grow the fuck up, and turned to Narcissa. "Go talk to Penny. I want the two of you to find a British non-magical reporter in good standing and offer him or her an interview with me."

"Her." Adrastia spoke up again. "It should be a woman. Preferably in her thirties, unmarried or divorced, career focused, childless, still good looking enough to have hope of attracting a man and starting a family but too old to really succeed. Show her a little attention, flirt with her, mix her longing for male companionship together with her professional ambitions, string her along, fuck her a few times if you don't find her too repulsive. You could own her in a matter of months, less if you subtly guide her thoughts in the proper direction with Legilimency."

Harry frowned deeply as he considered the suggestion. Having a pet reporter to spin things his way would certainly be beneficial, but it would also mean that it wouldn't just be a one-time interview to put an end to this nonsense that the ICW was perpetrating.

He glanced at Dora, expecting her to object, but she avoided his gaze and stayed quiet.

"That would mean I'd have to make interviews a regular thing." He said, still surreptitiously watching his shapeshifting lover for a reaction.

"You will not be able to avoid the spotlight in any event." Adrasita replied dryly. "Now that the Statute of Secrecy is defunct and the weight of their mistakes looming over them, the ICW will begin losing relevance. As the most powerful sorcerer of this era and the ruler of a realm isolated from the rest of the world, Spellhaven will remain an oasis of stability in a turbulent political landscape. Combine those factors with the inevitable tensions between us and the non-magicals and it means that your influence will grow as the ICW's wanes. I would give it no more than two or three decades before your voice is the de facto voice of all wizardkind.

She paused for dramatic effect before continuing in a more mocking tone of voice. "Of course, you could play the hermit and turn your back on this opportunity, which will serve to disperse all that political power among many lesser wizards. Unlike you, they will most likely not have the strength or awareness to resist the subversive influence of the mundane world. I seem to recall you making some profound statement earlier about how you will not allow that to happen."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He really wished that he could say that Adrastia was wrong, but he couldn't. Political power was like a bad smell that attached itself to other types of power, so her prediction was entirely plausible. Hadn't Dumbledore warned him about something like this happening way back when the biggest problem in his life was having Pettigrew's corpse stashed in a chest somewhere?

She was clearly suggesting that he use the looming chaos to seize as much political power for himself as possible and eventually unify the magical world into a single whole under his rule instead of having it be fragmented along the national borders of the mundane world. It would, admittedly, vastly strengthen the position of wizards and witches in this new world, but it sounded like an awful hassle.

Still, it wasn't all bad. While he wouldn't touch conventional politics with a ten foot pole if it could be avoided, he was less opposed to having absolute power. People could listen and do as he said and it would be fine, or they could fuck off and it would also be fine. It was the wishy-washy middle ground that he hated. And he could always delegate.

"Opinions?" He prompted, looking at everyone else.

"Do it." Narcissa said with an almost frightening fervor. "One day, your legend will eclipse even that of Merlin himself. If anyone has the power and the right to lead us into the future, it is you."

Times like this really brought home how he had messed with the woman's head. She was every bit as fanatical in her devotion to him as Bellatrix was to Voldemort, merely saner.

"I like blue." Luna smiled whimsically, which Harry interpreted as her having nothing to say on the subject at hand.

"It certainly has its advantages." Fleur said with a smile. She was the most politically ambitious of his girls, even if it was largely on behalf of her species.

Dora just shrugged. That was definitely weird. She'd always been more of a follower than a leader and should have at least looked uncomfortable about this plan.

Harry couldn't believe that he was seriously contemplating taking over the entire magical world. Oh the irony, the painful irony. There were still possible courses of action that Adrastia and Narcissa didn't know and wouldn't be told about that would potentially make that idea moot, but he was nonetheless seriously considering a long term campaign to spread his political influence, if only to protect the world of magic from the greedy fingers of the mundanes. Fuck it, it was better than doing nothing.

"Alright." Harry sighed, turning towards Narcissa. "Find a female reporter that fits the criteria Adrastia specified."

"I will see to it immediately." She nodded in understanding and excused herself.

"I will help." Adrastia stood with her, but turned to Harry with a look of smouldering invitation before leaving. "Come pay me a visit tonight if you want some pointers on how handle your interview."

Harry shook his head at her antics and looked at Dora.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked bluntly.

"What? Nothing." She replied unconvincingly. "I'm fine."

"Liar, you've been subdued ever since the battle." Fleur countered with clear disapproval.

"Even your hair has stayed mostly brown." Luna added.

A bleak look of regret passed over the metamorph's face. "We shouldn't have gone to save the Weasleys. If we'd just ignored the situation, Voldemort would know that we won't respond to hostage situations and probably wouldn't try it again."

"There's also his hatred for anything non-magical, his frustration at being constantly thwarted and his general craziness to consider, but yeah, we either shouldn't have gone at all or just fired through them and blamed it on Voldemort later." Harry nodded.

Dora looked pained, but didn't object.

"It isn't like you to suggest that abandoning people to torture and death would have been better than trying to save them." Fleur noted with a concerned frown.

"And what did trying to save them accomplish?" She responded bitterly. "They were dead the moment they got taken, I just didn't want to admit it. I wanted us to be the big damn heroes for a change and look where it got us."

Ah, now Harry understood. Dora always did have that idealistic streak in her. Occasionally annoying, but she was capable of putting it aside when it counted, unlike a certain bearded old wizard. The past few years had been hard on her as nothing ever turned out just right, either because there were no comfortable solutions or because even the supposed good guys were cunts. Looks like her idealism had finally crumbled under the weight of her disappointment.

Harry was almost sad to see it go. They'd have to do something to cheer her up so that she didn't wallow in the depression phase too long.

"So, yeah…..go ahead and emotionally manipulate a reporter into doing whatever you want." Dora continued in the same defeated tone. "I'm sure she'll be useful."

Definitely need to do something to cheer her up .

"You hinted at having some other plan in the works?" Fleur asked leadingly, unsubtly redirecting the conversation. Harry was more than happy to go along with it.

"You remember that experiment I'm running in Africa?"

"The one for increasing the chances of children being born magical?"

"The very same." He confirmed. "It was supposed to be a long term - make that extremely long term - project that would slowly and in relatively controlled circumstances turn the whole world magical. In the short term, it would have at least left us in a much better position once the Statute of Secrecy inevitably failed. Now I'm thinking that I could just say 'fuck it' to the slow approach and start dumping liquid magic into the water supply of major cities like London and New York. The sudden explosion of magical children being born would overwhelm the magical world's comparatively tiny infrastructure, but it would also blur out the lines between the magical and non-magical worlds and cripple any efforts to create an 'us versus them' mentality."

"The veela certainly wouldn't mind a sudden increase in viable mates." Fleur smiled.

"What's the catch?" Dora asked with trepidation.

"The animals?" Luna offered dreamily.

"Yes, the animals." Harry nodded in agreement, not surprised that Luna had picked up on that first. "For all the millions of people living in big cities, humans aren't the largest population in them. The rats alone outnumber them by far, not to mention every bird, cat, dog, spider, insect and who knows what else. A lot of them would get the magic too."

"What would happen?" Dora asked apprehensively.

"All sorts of things." Harry smirked. "The liquid magic is purified of all external influences and affects only the truth of things. Drinking it boosts a given life form's natural attributes if they are already magical or creates artificial squibs if they aren't, who then have a good chance of siring magical offspring if they reproduce before the magic fades out of them."

"So if I drank it….?" Fleur trailed off questioningly and he could hear a hint of longing in her tone.

"Unknown." He replied curtly. "It forces werewolves to transform, not completely but far further along than even Greyback managed without the Moon, and sends them into a feral rage. Regular wizards space out and seem to have trouble focusing, kind of like they were drugged out of their minds. The effects on a veela would likely be a significant boost to the power of the Allure, uncontrollable lust, a forced transformation, fogging of your higher reasoning ability and similar effects, but that's just my best educated guess."

Harry could see her visibly biting back the request that he find out for sure. Even after all this time, the desire to drink the raw magic hadn't completely abated. He knew that she harbored a secret, guilty hope that, some day, one of their mortal enemies would be a veela so that he would have one to run experiments on.

"What happens to rats?" Dora asked, getting the conversation back on track.

"Oh, they tend to give birth to offspring that grows to the size of dogs, with teeth that can chew through steel, bite strength that would put an alligator to shame, a digestive system that can process damn near anything and an appetite like you wouldn't believe."

"Ah." Dora winced, no doubt imagining a metropolis overrun by Rodents of Unusual Size. "How about we hold off on that plan for now, okay?"

"Until what?" Harry raised an eyebrow at her. He had been expecting that he would need to let the situation deteriorate until her concern for the lives of strangers diminished as the world slowly went to hell before she would agree to this measure.

Dora swallowed and avoided his gaze again. "Until we're sure that things are really not going to get better?"

"Sure." Harry nodded. Although he was terribly curious to see what would happen and personally thought that dusting off their survival instinct would be good for mankind as a whole, he had no problem waiting for a bit. He was too much of a pessimist to think that the situation would improve when it could deteriorate instead.

A little later.

"Harry!" Bryanna exclaimed happily as the wizard in question dropped by unexpectedly. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't I just visit for no reason?" He quipped with a small smile.

"Of course you can." Tiana purred, looking him over with blatant bedroom eyes. "But you never do anymore." She finished with a pout.

Bryanna was in full agreement with her friend and sometimes lover. The boy they'd originally gone out to seduce to further their ambitions had become a man that they have happily been either wives or mistresses to. Alas, he had looked elsewhere to fill those positions and his visits for a little hanky-panky on the side had dwindled to nearly nothing.

"Sorry about that." He shrugged, not particularly apologetically. "You know how it is. Work to do, things to learn, people to kill, disastrous collapses of the Statute of Secrecy to deal with."

Bryanna shared an amused glance with her friend.

"Anything we can do to help?" She asked suggestively.

"Maybe. How would you like to expand into the non-magical world?" He asked back, much to her surprise.

"What?" Tiana gasped in shock, once again echoing Bryanna's feelings.

"The Statute is broken beyond repair." Harry shrugged again. "I figure that we might as well get some benefits along with the problems. We can go talk to Penny about opening up some bank accounts and hiring an advertising agency if you're interested."

The two women shared another look, this time of dawning realization at the opportunity they'd just been presented with. The goal of their original plan to seduce Harry way back when they were all still in Hogwarts was to get enough funds and protection to set up a small niche business in Magical Britain that the purebloods couldn't ruin. Since then they had become quite a bit more than that, but as second generation witches they were well aware that the non-magical market was several orders of magnitude larger than the magical one. If they could be the first to break into that vast, suddenly viable market…

"Would you like to be shagged silly before or after we talk to Penny?" Bryanna asked, smiling so widely that her face hurt. They were going to be so rich. More importantly, they'd have a legitimate shot at having their fashion designs become world acclaimed, maybe even getting hired to make clothes for famous actors and actresses at red carpet events and stuff like that.

Harry grinned, the expression pulling at the scars on his face. "Let's say after. I've got all my toys back at the cháteau."